


Paperwork and Buttered Toast

by Proctor



Series: Motel Adventures [4]
Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First time anal, M/M, Rimming, bottom!Bill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:48:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22160596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proctor/pseuds/Proctor
Summary: I was delighted to find that I wasn't the only one who wanted to see a bottom Bill when I mentioned it after my last fic. We are but a few people, but that's enough to justify writing this.This takes place in season 2 between stakeouts.I hope you enjoy it :)
Relationships: Holden Ford/Bill Tench
Series: Motel Adventures [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/860940
Comments: 15
Kudos: 50





	Paperwork and Buttered Toast

**Author's Note:**

> I was delighted to find that I wasn't the only one who wanted to see a bottom Bill when I mentioned it after my last fic. We are but a few people, but that's enough to justify writing this. 
> 
> This takes place in season 2 between stakeouts.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it :)

Bill exited the steam-filled hotel bathroom to find Holden just as he had left him, slumped against the pillows of the double bed in his suit pants and white undershirt, an open manilla folder in his lap. The pen wasn’t moving though, and Bill suspected that he had already completed the reports from last night’s stakeout and was just trying to appear busy. It was early morning, and thankfully dull and rainy enough outside that no light shone through the curtains; Holden should be catching up on sleep while he got the chance, so should he. “You finished?”

Holden glanced briefly up at Bill then down at the pages in front of him before slowly raising his head once more in a delayed double-take, this time staring intently. Instead of a bathrobe, Bill wore only a towel around his waist, the bulk of his barrel-like torso naked above it; his gray hair was soaked and heavy, the short tips clinging messily to his forehead; his forearms were threaded with protruding veins, dilated from the heat of the shower; and the moisture on his skin caught the low light from the bedside lamp, droplets of water leaving glistening streaks down his temples, cheeks, and the jut of his jaw.

“The…uh…paper…work?” he asked distractedly.

“No, the Boston Marathon,” Bill smiled, but Holden wasn’t even listening.

“Yeah…” Holden agreed, gazing at the shallow pool of water gathering in the hollow of Bill’s collarbone.

“Really?” Bill laughed, “How’d you do?”

“How did I…? Sorry. Yes.” Holden snapped out of his trance, “I am. I have. Finished the paperwork.”

He waited in silence for a moment before realising that the question of ‘why are you still here then?’ had remained unsaid but was implied nevertheless. In truth, he had spent the duration of the stakeout looking over at his partner, trying his best not to touch him or say anything remotely flirtatious (Bill maintained he was a terrible flirt anyway). It was a difficult task though, especially when Bill sat there, rough and sweaty after eight hours of Atlanta heat, but he was firmly cautioned the last time he tried to engage in sex with him by the side of the road. “I thought you might like…some company,” he tried, but knew how ridiculous it sounded considering they had just spent the whole night in the car together.

“Oh yeah?” Bill sauntered over to him, already aware of the type of ‘company’ he was referring to, but deciding (perhaps a little cruelly) not to make it known. “What makes you think I don’t just wanna sleep?” he asked, then fluffed the closest pillow with a few rough pats and climbed onto the bed, sitting up against the headboard and crossing his arms over his chest.

“If you did, you would have kicked me out by now.”

“I could still kick you out.”

Holden looked quickly from left to right then back at Bill. “Are you going to?”

Bill smiled. He was only teasing, but Holden looked so lost that he decided to put him out of his misery. “You can stay,” he said, giving him a playful nudge with his elbow, and watched as Holden’s mouth curled up at the corner.

Holden knew from the gesture and from the tone of his voice that even if Bill didn’t fully understand what he was so awkwardly implying, he at least genuinely wanted him there.

He put down the folder and propped himself up on the pillows so that they were sitting side-by-side then leaned against a bare, fleshy arm, quietly enjoying the reassuring stability that it offered. What he really wanted though, was to feel it under his fingertips…

He tentatively lifted his hand off the bed, but as he did, Bill turned on his side with his back to him, one leg draped over the other under the towel as he reached across to the bedside table for his packet of cigarettes.

Holden kept his hand hovering uselessly in the air, but when faced with the vast expanse of skin in front of him and the welcoming warmth emanating from it, brought it closer, extending his middle finger, and slowly ran it between Bill’s shoulder blades. It was a modest caress, but it caused his cock to jump all the same, the immediate effect of the innocent and unsolicited contact making him feel like some sort of virgin schoolboy getting over-excited because he had brushed against his gym teacher.

Bill shook the pack and dipped his head to tug a cigarette out between his teeth, smiling around it as he picked up his lighter before eventually turning his head. “You feeling me up?” he asked, the cigarette flicking up and down as he spoke.

“Do you mind?” But even as Holden said it, made no attempt to stop.

“Would you care if I did?” Bill raised an eyebrow at him, mostly in amusement, but with a little sass tinting the edges.

“I wouldn’t want to overstep my boundaries, Bill,” Holden replied in that soft, concerned voice of his, the one that Bill found as treacly as he did endearing.

“You have boundaries? I had no idea.”

“...by doing something that I didn’t think you would like.”

“Oh, _I_ see,” Bill chuckled. Of course there were conditions to that statement.

Bill didn’t really mind being caressed though, Holden’s touch was gentle and curious, relaxing even. And despite no effort being required on his part, it seemed to please Holden, as if the mere opportunity were a gift in itself. “Please yourself. Mind if I smoke?”

“Do you have to?”

“No.” But Bill proceeded to light it up, prompting Holden to give him a deeply unimpressed look. Bill turned away with a smug expression on his face, pulling the ashtray closer to the edge of the table.

Forgiving Bill’s questionable bedroom etiquette and choosing to focus on the permission he had been granted, Holden rested on one elbow and lay his palm flat against him then began to run it over his wide neck and broad shoulders, kneading it wherever he felt tension, enough to make Bill loosen up, and to his satisfaction, give a few pleased little ‘hmph’s. He swept it briefly around his chest, just to feel the chunkiness of his body under his arm and to cheekily rouse a nipple, then returned with a softer touch as he reached his lower back, using his fingertips to trail across his skin, all the way down to the fabric of the towel.

Bill tapped the ash into the tray, unsurprised when he felt a hand slip beneath the towel and smooth over his rear, cupping his cheeks one at a time and giving them a squeeze. It was bound to happen at some point, Holden liked to fill his hands with him, anything meaty he could get a hold of, and while there was no shortage of choices, he did seem to appreciate an ass.

He took long draw as he enjoyed the feeling of Holden’s roaming hand and exploratory touches… but tensed slightly when a finger slid into the crevice of his backside.

“Careful now, Holden,” he drawled, and while there was humour in his tone, it was matched with warning.

“You don’t like it?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t like the sensation, Holden had touched him there once or twice before - sometimes by accident and sometimes not, and while it had admittedly been stimulating, it had also made him feel exposed in a way that he was still unused to - it was so… private, a point of violation for a man, if violation was the intent. Of course, Holden held few such concerns, happy to show him his own, let him look at it, touch it, put his cock in it, have a good rut inside it, and he wondered if he was just being petty. “I… Just be gentle.”

Holden smiled.

He reached around his front and undid the knot of the towel, parting it so that Bill lay naked on top, and as he did, caught a glimpse of his thick, erect cock, risen from beneath the spread of a large, furry thigh. Even now, it still made him blush.

Encouraged, he licked a finger to coat it in a bit of spit, just to stop any unwanted friction, then slipped it back between the cheeks of his buttocks. It was warm and hairy, fiercely masculine yet irresistibly soft. He dipped down further, feeling his way around until he met with the edge of his pucker, the muscle giving a small spasm beneath his touch. He retreated for a moment, avoiding direct contact, then ever so gently began to stroke the surrounding skin, soothing it until it calmed down.

Bill felt the finger delicately swirl around the outside of his entrance, teasingly or considerately, he didn’t know, but when the spit-slick digit began to work its way inward and finally slid directly over his hole, it was as great a relief as a pleasure. He let out a quiet breath, blinking slowly, unwinding as he was graced with this particularly intimate massage.

He took another draw of his cigarette, and it occurred to him how self-indulgent he must seem: lying there, casually smoking as he had his asshole fondled. Perhaps it was callous, maybe even perverse, but there was a strange sense of empowerment under the pretense of indifference.

Holden watched Bill stub out his cigarette, knock back the dregs of his mini-bar whisky, and to his surprise, turn onto his stomach and fold his arms, resting his chin in the dip of his wrists, as though the act being performed was some sort of spa service.

“Comfortable?” he asked, but it was only a partial jest, he was happy to see him enjoying himself.

“Mm-hm,” Bill answered, spreading his legs a little wider, and Holden could tell from the sound alone that he was smiling. _Well that was unforeseen._ He looked down at the splay of Bill’s thighs and had a thought. It took a moment to make a decision, to consider the fallout of what he was about to do, but curiosity won in the end.

He hunkered down on the bed between Bill’s legs, grasped his ass with a hand on each cheek, prised them apart, then dipped his head and swiped the flat of his tongue over his anus.

“Fuck, Holden,” Bill growled, disapproval and pleasure clashing. He wanted to reprimand him, but the intense stimulation all at once followed by no stimulation at all made him eager to experience it again, if only to know if it would be as good a second time. He lay perfectly still, and hoped that would be enough to make himself understood.

It was. And with renewed motivation, Holden lowered his head again, but rather than giving a brief sweep, instead pressed the tip of his tongue to the taut wreath and began rapidly flicking back and forth over its ridges. The groan that Bill let out was long, loud, and deep, so much so that it seemed to vibrate right the way through them both. It was a dizzying combination: Bill’s vocal reaction, the sensation of him under his tongue, and the smell of him - hotel soap, sweat, and Bill’s own personal musk. It was the first time Holden had done this, but he could easily see himself craving it.

Bill dropped his forehead down onto the back of his hand, listening to the sound of his own heavy breaths against the mattress as Holden licked and flicked and laved at him. It wasn’t always controlled, it wasn’t always skillful, but _Christ_ did it feel good, utterly filthy, but very, very good.

Holden slowed down to a stop, and the noises of his wet licks ceased, but just when Bill thought it was over, he felt the pressure of a stiffened tongue nudge against his entrance. He curled his fingers into the sheets, but didn’t make a sound, the room completely silent as Holden wormed his tongue inside him.

There were no words to describe the feeling, except that it thrilled and terrified him in equal measure, and not because he felt compromised, but because… he liked it, maybe even loved it.

He barely had time to process the gravity of that epiphany when Holden started to move. He did so a little gingerly at first, prodding at him experimentally, but as his confidence grew, he began to plunge and twirl with increasing enthusiasm, until eventually, he stilled his head completely and moved only his tongue, churning his spit in him so that Bill could feel the wet against his walls as he was thoroughly eaten out. It was unbelievable.

His dick kept straining below him, untouched, so he tried to find some friction for it by rubbing himself on the sheets, the stain of pre-cum from where he had dribbled providing a cool, wet contrast to the heat of his cock.

Holden revelled in it and continued to work feverishly inside him, alternating between movements to keep him guessing, and even managing to chase Bill with his mouth as he ground against the bed.

His tongue soon grew tired though, the muscle unused to being tested like this, and when he finally felt unable to continue, he hauled it out, gasping, then pressed a loud, sloppy kiss to his hole, administered a playful slap to his rump, and began to undress.

Bill gave a rough, cracked laugh and turned his head to find Holden removing his undershirt. “Don’t ever slap my ass again, Holden.”

Holden grinned. “Noted. That was fun though, right?”

“Fun, huh? It’s not the first word that comes to mind.”

“You liked it though?”

Bill sighed and nodded in defeat. “Yeah, I liked it.”

“See. You need to trust me more, Bill,” he said as he took off his pants, and it didn’t escape Bill how hard Holden was in his underwear, his dick straining the fabric crudely despite the casual conversation.

“So what, are you some kind of love guru now?”

“You think I could be?”

Bill assumed he was joking, but with Holden, you never knew. “I wouldn’t quit your day job.”

Holden smiled and now fully nude, crawled onto Bill’s back, crossed his arms on top of his heavy shoulders and nosed at the nape of his neck. He lay there for a moment, the underside of his cock cradled comfortably in the crease of Bill’s ass. Feeling mischievous, he gave a tiny roll of his hips.

Bill let out a deep chuckle. “Don’t even think about it.”

“No?”

“Not a chance,” he smiled, turning over, effectively throwing Holden off, but Holden lay on top of him again with his hands running through his chest hair as he idly rubbed their erections together. _He was like a limpet._

Holden knew Bill wouldn’t go for it, it was too much, but he liked to plant the idea in his head every now and again, give him the chance to mull over the possibility. “Well, you can’t blame me for trying,” he said, reclining on his back and spreading his legs in invitation.

“Pretty sure I can.” But as Bill raised himself on his elbows to get a proper look at Holden and saw him lying there, offering himself openly, fearless and without shame, he started to imagine that perhaps Holden’s attitude wasn’t the problem, maybe it was his.

“I must be losing my mind,” he laughed under his breath, shaking his head before lumbering onto his hands and knees at the top of the bed with his back to Holden, assuming the position. “This good?”

Holden froze, looking around the room as if it might be a set-up, then returned his gaze to Bill and stared at him with wide eyes. “Are you…serious?”

Bill reached back to pull at one of his ass-cheeks, exposing his entrance.

“Okay then…you are…clearly serious,” Holden nodded, swallowing hard.

“Don’t say I’m not good to you.”

He watched Bill face the headboard, waiting for him, and decided to abandon all of his questions in favour of action. He had to take the opportunity, do this now, and make it good.

It was then that he remembered the first time they had sex, when he had been over-eager and had used only a small amount of spit to take Bill’s cock, it had burned a little, and while he had persevered, he wasn’t sure Bill had the same determination. He scanned the room.

Bill felt Holden’s weight lift from the bed then heard the clatter of cutlery from the breakfast tray on the desk. He turned his head to find out what was taking so long, just in time to see Holden kneeling behind him, a small dish of butter in his hand. His face grew hot as it occurred to him what his intentions were. _Jesus fucking Christ._

Holden noticed the flush on Bill’s face. “It’ll be easier,” he said.

Bill wanted the ground to open up and swallow him, but Holden was right, he didn’t need this to hurt any more than it had to. He sighed then gave him a curt nod of agreement.

Holden slathered the softened butter on his cock, mixing it with his own pre-cum, then used a little more to grease Bill’s entrance, dipping just the tip of his finger inside him - no further than his tongue had been - and circled it, watching Bill flinch but say nothing. He wanted to work him open gradually, thoroughly, but couldn’t measure Bill’s patience, so quickly crawled between his legs with his cock in his hand and… just sat there.

He had been quite bold up to this point, and always prepared for rejection, but now that he was being offered exactly what he wanted, self-doubt began to creep in.

“Something wrong?”

“Would it be weird if I wanted to face you? I feel like I want to face you,” he babbled, and heard Bill give a fond but exasperated laugh.

Well, of course Holden would want to face him. It was a vain hope that he could hide his insecurities by not looking him in the eye, especially when he knew that Holden liked the eye-contact, needed the connection. “No,” he answered softly, “it wouldn’t be weird,” then turned over, lying with his knees peaked, but keeping his feet firmly planted on the bed.

He stuffed a pillow beneath his back for leverage, put his hands behind his head, and waited, but Holden continued to sit there staring at him. _He was nervous._ “You good?”

“I am,” Holden quickly replied, attempting to sound confident, but the effect was lessened as he cleared his throat awkwardly.

 _Poor Holden._ “You still wanna fuck an old man?”

The corner of Holden’s lips quirked up at that. “Self-deprecating humour. Simultaneously elevating me while defusing the tension,” he nodded, “Well played.”

“Are you?”

Holden narrowed his eyes. “Am I what?”

“Tense?”

He paused before replying, contemplating his ego. “Aren’t _you_?”

“Yes.”

He relaxed a little at that admission. “Yeah, me too,” he too confessed.

Bill gave a small empathetic smile. He understood. “Come on then,” he said soothingly, patting his inner thigh in a gesture to have him kneel between his legs. Holden moved forward, and when he was close enough, Bill reached out to wrap a hand around his slippery pink cock, gave him a few long strokes, then began to slowly jerk him off.

Holden took a deep breath, held it, then let it shakily exit his lungs. He knew that this was an attempt to placate him, but he couldn’t deny its effectiveness; Bill always seemed to know exactly what he needed.

When Holden seemed ready, Bill put a hand on his lower back to bring him closer then led Holden’s cock down to his entrance and pressed them together, and even though he could feel himself twitch and his heart race, he kept his expression warm. “You’re fine. You got this.”

Holden blushed at the vote of confidence, he wasn’t the one getting fucked for the first time, yet here Bill was, acting like a dad teaching his son how to ride a bike, motivating him, encouraging him, convincing him he would succeed. What would he do without him? _You got this_ , Holden repeated in his head.

He took his cock back from Bill’s hold and carefully began rubbing it over him, up, down and around his hole, getting Bill used to the feeling of him, but also attempting to commit the sensation to memory.

Bill brought his hands underneath himself to spread his cheeks little wider, never once taking his eyes off Holden’s face. Holden may have been too engrossed in his current task to notice him, and Bill knew that feeling well, but on the receiving end, and required to do little more than lie there, he had the opportunity to look at him, to study those familiar blue eyes, intensely serious yet strangely innocent for someone in their early thirties. He reached out a hand and held Holden’s thigh, stroking it with his thumb affectionately. He was getting sentimental.

Finally, the slow pressure began and the tip of Holden’s cock started push into him, stretching his opening. He felt himself resist, not deliberately but on reflex, his body thinking it was under threat. He had to consciously remind it that it wasn’t, that it was only Holden, that it knew him well. He relaxed with that thought, and when he did, felt the buttered crown slip inside. His breath hitched, the intrusion undeniable but not unpleasant, and while the sensation of being breached was alien to him, he was surprised by how easily it happened.

Holden was too. Bill was tight, breathtakingly so, but there was acceptance as well, acceptance that he was unprepared for. He wanted more of it, and so, curling a hand around Bill’s knee and directing himself with the other, he began to press into him.

They both groaned as he slid inside, inch by inch. Bill closed his eyes, gripped by an increasing feeling of fullness that seemed to reach as far as his belly, one that was closely followed by the brush of neatly trimmed pubic hair against his sac. He opened his eyes again to find Holden watching him, pink-cheeked and breathing deeply through parted lips, his pupils dark and glassy.

Without a word and without breaking their eye-contact, Holden began to slowly but deeply rock into him, each gentle thrust wrenching a gravelly grunt from Bill’s throat.

The feeling of it was unlike anything else Bill had experienced, the pull scraping against against his nerves, the push driving warmth into his gut, and while Holden’s tongue had been pleasurable, this was far more intense, far more potent, and far more intimate.

Holden gazed down at Bill as he moved inside him. The heat and grip of him was incredible, but it was the look of him: deeply flushed and sweating, mouth open and brow creased almost painfully in pleasure, that left him breathless. He had never looked so gorgeous.

He continued to thrust gently, but lowered himself to rest his forearms and palms on Bill’s chest, just to feel closer to him.

The gesture didn’t go unnoticed, and Bill found himself placing a hand on the back of Holden’s neck, maybe in reassurance, maybe just to feel closer to him too. And it was only when he grasped him tighter that he realised how little effort it would take to drag him down for a kiss…

Instead, he skirted his palms down Holden’s sides, all the way to his hips, and guided him into faster pace. Holden responded immediately, but instead of moving in time with him, began bucking far quicker than he had encouraged.

“Ugh, Jesus Christ, Holden.” He threw his head back and screwed his eyes shut, the rapid thrusts not only making dirty, slapping sounds, but hitting something sensitive, a small part of him that had remained untouched for his entire life, one that he only knew of by reputation. The wave of pleasure it sent through him was almost electric, spreading from the point of contact all the way to the tips of fingers. His balls abruptly rose in his sac and his cock twitched with arousal. This would finish him.

He clenched his teeth, hissing through them, then grabbed his dick and tugged at it wildly.

The sight of Bill’s jerking fist, the redness of his face and chest, and all those desperate sounds brought Holden dangerously close to climax. He rose on his hands, bracing himself, and focused on nothing but driving his cock in and out as quickly as possible, knowing that at this rate, neither could withstand it for long.

Holden was completely sloppy in his movements now, and the mattress squeaked in protest to his chaotic rutting, but it was enough, maybe even too much. Bill felt the build, the peak, and then, with the most pitiful moan he had ever heard from his own lips, ejaculated.

Holden watched the succession of heavy spurts that ejected from the tip of Bill’s cock, so profuse in quantity that he couldn’t imagine when he had last come. _When they had last had sex? Almost a week ago?_ The idea brought him close, close to the point of certainty. He gave Bill no time to recover.

“I…I’m going to…can I…” he panted, “…Can I come in you…?”

Bill nodded weakly, reaching up and cupping his cheek.

Holden didn’t know if it was the inevitability of his orgasm, or that final gesture, that final touch, but he came with a groan, spending himself inside Bill.

Bill felt Holden’s cock strain with each gush of release, warm semen licking deep against his walls, heat filling him.

*

They sat there, breathing hard for at least a minute, Holden softening but reluctant to pull out. Eventually Bill had to pat him on the thigh to get his attention, and he finally withdrew, slithering wetly from him and lying by his side.

“That felt incredible,” Holden remarked in awe, staring at the ceiling.

“Don’t get used to it,” Bill smiled, turning his head to look at him, “I thought I was gonna have a heart attack.”

Holden curled into his side, throwing a leg over his. “It would be a nice way to go.”

“I’m not dying with a dick in me Holden,” he laughed, but it was deep and raspy from having his voice fucked out of him.

Holden nuzzled into his arm, pressing his lips to his shoulder in a kiss, and Bill rolled his eyes.

“What did I say about kissing? I’m not your girlfriend, Holden,” he complained.

“You have some strange rules, Bill, I’ve just had sex with you.”

“Sex, exactly, sexual, not romantic.”

“Scared you might fall in love with me?” Holden teased.

“Every day,” Bill replied flatly, but even as he joked, the comment struck a deep nerve. What he felt for Holden was… complicated: he wanted to protect him, take care of him, look at him, touch him, have sex with him, and where that ended and 'love' began, he had no idea. _Kissing_ , he reasoned, _definitely kissing_.

“Are you hungry? I’m hungry,” Holden said, and Bill was glad for the change in subject.

“Well, I would offer you cold toast, but I think you’ve used all my butter.”

Holden picked up the dish, “No, there’s still some left. Probably enough for a slice.”

“I don’t know if you’re joking or not.”

Holden smiled then snuggled back down. “Can I stay?”

“Just this once," he replied, too exhausted to argue, "and only if you stay on that side of the bed,” he added, rolling him over.

*

It took exactly ten minutes before Holden had drowsily found his way back, resting his head on his chest, but instead of pushing him away, Bill sighed and wrapped an arm around him, holding him close, before falling asleep to the sound of the rain on the window.

*

**Author's Note:**

> I had meant for this to be a quick little fic, but it ended up being a bit longer than I expected. 
> 
> I know they still haven't kissed, which may seem strange after four fics of sex, but I think it might break Bill XD, though I would like to see it happen at some point. He's gradually softening. I also want to write a fic where Bill instigates the sex instead of Holden, it would be interesting to see him wanting him a little desperately.
> 
> Season 3 needs to get a move on! XD
> 
> Thank you for reading. :)


End file.
